Mistakes and Repercussions
by faithonhold
Summary: Captain Hook is sitting on her couch. The absurdity of the situation does not escape Emma. Whilst trying to (not) run away from him (and possible feelings for him), Emma ends up perhaps revealing more about herself than she wants to. And she finds that she doesn't mind much. Or at all.


A/N: This hiatus has made me go a bit crazy. I can't get enough of this ship.

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She was so stupid.

Captain _fucking_ Hook was sitting on her couch.

What had she been thinking?

Killian "I'm-the-best-thing-to-ever-happen-to-womankind" Jones was sitting on her couch, prodding and examining the television remote as though it were the most interesting object he'd ever seen.

She had been suffering from a bout of insanity. Yes, that was it.

She would have liked to blame it on alcohol, but unfortunately, there had been no alcohol involved. Unless Ruby had spiked her drink. Which she wouldn't do, Emma was fairly certain of that. Nope, this was all Emma. Insane Emma, but Emma nonetheless.

She had been having a nice, peaceful lunch at Granny's, which should have been her first clue. Really, when was her life ever peaceful? Mistake #1.

The bell on the door chimed, indicating a visitor. She hadn't paid it any attention. Mistake #2.

Needless to say, she was fairly surprised when Captain Hook rolled into the seat across from her. Actually, 'fairly surprised' was what she hoped showed on her face because inside, Emma's heart did a little flip- which she chose to ignore- and her heart rate sped up, and she was pathetic, but she would never admit it.

She hadn't seen him for a while and she knew that was mostly because she had been avoiding him. He had made it very clear he was interested in her and while she would be lying if she said she felt absolutely nothing for him, she had no intentions of pursuing anything with him.

It wasn't that she didn't want to, she just couldn't risk it. She knew his type. And she also knew she did not want to go through another heartbreak.

Killian Jones had then proceeded to call over Ruby to take his order, as though he had every right to be sitting where he was. It was only when Ruby had disappeared, not without casting a few curious glances between the two, had he finally turned his attention to her.

She didn't think he would have said anything, had she not raised a contentious eyebrow at him. He sighed, and motioned around them.

"I walked in, saw you sitting by yourself and thought I'd keep you company," he said simply, raising his glass to take a drink Ruby had filled.

"You just came in and sat down, how do you know I even want company?" she asked him, eying him warily. She didn't believe him. He wasn't the type to keep her "company." He always had an ulterior motive.

He shrugged. "You didn't complain," he said, setting his glass down. "Besides," he leaned in. "I know you've been avoiding me."

Oh, God. Had she really been so stupid that she had thought he wouldn't notice?

"I haven't been-"she began indignantly, determined to defend her innocence.

"I know you, Emma Swan," he continued as if she hadn't said anything. "Like it or not, you are fairly easy to read; you're an open book, love, no matter how hard you try to hide it."

"Oh, yea?" she challenged him. It was a talent, she decided, that he could have her this addled in less than five minutes in his presence. "And why was I supposedly avoiding you?

He leaned in again, closer this time, his blue eyes never wavering from her and said quietly, "Because you're afraid. Afraid I'll leave like the rest of them."

That hit a little too close to home, and she visibly tensed. How could he possibly now? He wasn't allowed to read her that easily!

"How-"she began, seething, but was interrupted by Ruby with his food.

She waited a moment, but he made no move to acknowledge what he had just done, that he had broken past her walls without even a hint of hesitation. He was too busy examining his food, almost as if he were blissfully unaware of her temper rising with each passing second.

She glared at his head, anger welling up inside of her. How dare he just waltz in here and say things like that! He had no right!

She told him as much. His only response was to lazily look at her, chewing his food slowly.

Her fist was aching to meet his jaw, but she held out on that urge. She was done. She absolutely refused to have this conversation.

Her food wasn't finished, but she pushed it away anyway and began to gather her coat.

She wasn't running away, she told herself. She just needed her distance from him. Being in his presence for too long always made her do something rash. And she was not in the mood for rash decisions that she would undoubtedly regret later.

She slammed a couple bills down on the table, before sliding out of the booth and bolting out of the diner.

The cold winter breeze was a welcome as she made her way down Main Street. It helped her get her thoughts together.

Emma's heart constricted as she recalled the words that had so easily fallen from his lips. For as long as she could remember, she had hidden behind walls that she had created to protect herself from the world. After what had happened with a certain jerk in Tallahassee, she was never one to trust openly. And no one had ever broken past her walls. Not so easily. Not until she had met him.

Anger and confusion bubbled up in her as she continued walking, arms crossed tightly and eyes directed angrily at the ground. How did he know that was exactly what she feared?

She wasn't stupid. She knew he wanted her. And she wasn't going to deny the obvious and pretend that she didn't feel anything for him either. If anything, every time she was around him, her heart danced and she would love to finally be able to give in to his advances.

But she couldn't.

She refused to take that step that would inevitably lead to heartbreak. She had just began to trust, she had just begun to realize that people actually cared about _her_, and she didn't want that to all be in vain when he, no doubt, left her.

It wasn't running away when there was nothing to run away from.

She had just crossed two blocks when she realized that she had left her car in front of the diner. Shit. She didn't want to go back and get it because she might just run into someone she definitely _wasn't_ running away from, but she didn't want to walk all the way back home. It was a long walk.

She was contemplating whether or not it was worth taking the trip back, when she heard her name.

"Emma!"

It sounded a lot closer than she expected.

"Emma," said the voice, now almost directly behind her.

Damn it.

He had followed her.

She'd be lying if that thought didn't cause her heart to jump.

Gouging how far she could possibly get with his voice so close (she couldn't possibly get that far, he sounded like he was directly behind her, if his footsteps were any indication), she turned around slowly. Mistake #3.

Killian Jones was a couple feet away from her, arm outstretched as he caught her wrist in his hand. Her skin burned where he had touched it, and she wretched her hand out of his.

He stared at his hand, still upturned, for a moment before sighing and directing his gaze at her.

"Emma," he said slowly, looking directly at her. "I'm sorry."

He paused before continuing. "You just-"he ran an agitated hand through his hair. "You just make me so _frustrated_," he bit out.

Oh, that did it. Emma snapped.

"_I_ make _you_ frustrated?" she screeched, her arms flailing about her. "How the hell do I make _you_ frustrated? You're the one who can't seem to get the message!"

She was breathing heavily and she was appalled how he could think that of her when he was the one who was so infuriating!

_Oh, really, Emma. It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact that you've been rejecting him since the moment you saw him, _she thought bitterly to herself.

"I can't get the message?" he snapped, glaring at her. He walked closer to her, so close to her that she could see the scar on his cheek, the specks of anger clouding his ocean-blue eyes. "I'm not the one who's running away! I won't-"

"I'm not running away!" she yelled, cutting him off. She was not. She just needed space. That was not running away.

He let out a disgruntled growl and grabbed her shoulder. She flinched at the contact and he tightened his hold, glaring at her.

"Not running away, lass? Sure doesn't seem that way," he said through gritted teeth. She glared up at him stubbornly, refusing to sway. She shoved his hand away and stared at a point just above his shoulder.

"I'm not- I can't- I'm not running away!" she cried, completely irate. "You don't understand, Hook." Her breathing was heavy, her tone splenetic and she gave him a withering stare; if looks could kill, Killian Jones would have died a very violent death right then and there.

He must have seen something in her menacing gaze- must have read something between the hateful and sadistic look- because rather than explode in anger like she expected him to, his shoulders relaxed and he got a strange look in his eyes. His hand came to gently rest on her cheek and she flinched but didn't move away.

"I won't leave, Emma," he said quietly. He was so close now she could count every dark eyelash on his ocean-blue eyes. "I'm not like the others."

She huffed, even though it was difficult because she was suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. "And what makes you so different?" she managed to say, inwardly rejoicing that she sounded indifferent and calm. She felt anything but. Her traitor eyes fell to his lips and with every ounce of willpower she had, she forced them back to his eyes.

"It's called trust, darling," he said, his breath ghosting across her lips.

"And you're a pirate," she whispered. He was too close. Much too close.

Her hands came to rest on his chest and she gave him a slight push. Not enough to make him fall, but enough that he took a small step backwards.

The next thing she knew, he gave a small grunt of surprise and was no longer directly in front of her.


End file.
